


Halted Parade

by phngi



Category: Death Note, Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Parade (Anime)
Genre: Afterlife, Crossover, Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:19:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3858628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phngi/pseuds/phngi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Given the cameo in episode 11 of Death Parade, a crossover between Death Note and Death Parade.</p><p>"…She stepped aside and beckoned toward the two figures standing in the shadows behind her, smiling and inviting them to step forward into the room. As they emerged, the arbiters took in the sight of them. The first was a clean-cut elderly man in a dark tuxedo. His white hair was combed neatly back and his mustache trimmed. He wore thin-framed rectangular spectacles and a kind albeit confused expression on his aged face as he looked curiously around the room and then toward the second guest on his left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interruption

A little party of sorts was happening in Quindecim. Well – it was as close to a party as the arbiters could get, what with the regular influx of the deceased – and wasn’t it astounding how many humans died every day? After having memories upon memories of souls ripped from their bodily vessels streamed into their heads, it was only fair for the ragtag gang of grim reapers to take advantage of this rare, slow day and drink up with Decim’s decadent martinis. The clinking of glasses echoed slightly as Decim washed and polished the tools of his trade. In the corner, the mannequin of a guest from two years ago played a calm jazz tune on the piano and swayed slightly as the puppet strings drifted in the air. The jellyfish floated lazily back and forth in its heavy tank, thoughtless and directionless, reflecting the dim fluorescent lights of the bar chandelier. 

Ginti emptied his glass with one swift gulp and set it on the counter, pushing it forward. Decim turned his head slightly and looked at him while continuing to polish the wine glass he was holding. “Do you wish to have more?” he asked in his usual voice of deadened politeness. “It would be no trouble to create it again.”

Memine leapt into Ginti’s lap out of nowhere. He scowled at Decim for a moment while scratching the cat absentmindedly behind the ears before answering with a brief grunt. Even he had to admit Decim’s mastery of mixology. It didn’t make up for his idiot ways of thinking and annoyingly superior attitude, but a drink was a drink. 

“Make Ginti’s after you fill that glass for me, Decim. I had to go all the way to the living realm for this bottle and I’m not waiting for the old man to trick me into betting it in a game of pool.”  
A vein pulsed in Ginti’s temple but he knew better than to snap at Nona. She knew it too. She smirked playfully in his direction, and accepted the wine glass imperiously. The fragrant drink swirled around the glass as Nona tilted the stem with her small, delicate fingers. They all drank in silence for a while, staring absently around the bar. After eternities of the same thing day in and day out, even the opportunity to do nothing was extremely – and pathetically – more than welcome. They sipped, they stared, and they existed.

“Quin is coming down, if you can believe it. Someone just starting in the information bureau getting time off? You’ve got to be kidding me. What a day.” She sipped her wine, smiled slightly with satisfaction, and set it back down. As if on cue, a faint ding in the distance chimed followed by the sounds of the sliding doors of an elevator and they heard Clavis announce the current floor. Decim looked up.

Quin sauntered in, already looking tipsy. “Greetings, treasured friends!” She spread her arms and bowed low, like she had just sung an aria in an opera. Ginti swiveled around and leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at her. Nona looked as unfazed as Decim always did and didn’t bother to turn around. “Nice to see you too, Quin.”

“Eh? I wasn’t talking about you lot, I was talking about the booze.” Quin rolled her eyes jokingly – at least, the eye not covered by a mechanical patch. She strode over to them, hopped into the seat on the other side of Nona and prostrated herself over the bar with the sigh of a tired old man. “Hit me up with that human alcohol already,” she whined. “I’ve been working my tail off at the information bureau lately, it’s seriously a MIRACLE things have let up at all today. Souls in and out and in and out and in and out, why do people have to die so much and make my life this hard? I miss having your job,” she added ruefully, raising her head to pout at Decim. 

“I am sorry to hear to that.”

“Tch,” she snickered. “Decim, you suck at sympathy.”

“You’re in the wrong realm for sympathy,” corrected Nona. “Rule number three. Arbiters cannot feel emotions for they are dummies.”

“Yeah, yeah we all know that,” Quin scowled. “Still…” She sighed heavily again and downed the wine that Decim had just poured for her. “You have no idea how bad it’s actually been the past few months. The spike in deaths is ridiculous across the globe and it’s literally all because of one human!”

Decim tilted his head slightly, the most expressive form of surprise he was used to displaying. He sat down to listen. Nona paused mid-sip and put her glass down. “Just one?”

Quin opened her mouth to complain more but it was Ginti who answered. “It’s that brat from Japan, isn’t it? Some arrogant bastard kid tryin’ to play god. I saw him on the view-screen.”  
“That’s right,” said Quin, sitting up and looking at them all. “What the humans do to each other is their business, but we at the bureau still keep tabs on the ones who reach this level of massacre.”  
“I’d like to be the arbiter for that uppity asshole,” Ginti growled. “He’s the reason I’ve had to handle this flood of stupid humans. I’ve been sending them this way and that just to get them outta my bar before they annoy me too much. We’ll see who’s god when I’ve got that brat screaming, crying, begging for mercy and – “

“That is repulsive and unacceptable.”

Every head turned toward Decim in surprise. He stared coolly back into Ginti’s piercing golden eyes with a thin mouth and fixed brow. It suddenly became so quiet that the only sound was the blubbing sound of water moving gently as the jellyfish swam in its aquarium. The mannequin had stopped playing and was sitting on the bench, slightly slumped as its puppet strings relaxed. Ginti’s face looked as though it was having a hard time deciding whether to be surprised or furious. Nona stared. Quin’s mouth fell slightly open. She promptly shut it, scratched the back of her head, and began to laugh nervously. “Come on Decim, lighten up! It’s a party, we’ve got booze and friends so let’s just –“

“That is repulsive and unacceptable,” Decim repeated.

It was astounding. Though his face remained calm and pallid, a sort of cold fury seemed to emanate from those chillingly empty blue eyes. The usual curtain of politeness had apparently parted and it felt as though they were looking into the void itself as they looked at Decim.

As luck would have it, Ginti’s mind finally decided what emotion to start feeling. He clenched his fists and stood up suddenly, looking Decim square in the eye. “You’d better be talking about that kid and not me, freak. Or I’ll show you how repulsive I can be.”

Decim blinked slowly and disdainfully, unimpressed. A shadow passed over his motionless face. “All humans deserve proper attention in their judgment. It is unfit for an arbiter to do otherwise. I have respect for those who live a fulfilled life. You are unfit for –“

The rest of his sentence was lost in a sudden, clattering flash of action. Ginti knocked his drink aside and made a few quick movements with his hands. The alcohol from his glass flew into the air and dispersed into small orbs that shot toward Decim like bullets. Ginti drew one fist back and flung the other toward Decim’s neck – but his fingers stopped and struggled an inch short of the bartender’s collar. Decim stood, looking into Ginti’s sharp eyes, totally composed. The droplets of gin fell harmlessly to the floor, not even splashing Decim’s shoes. Ginti made a sort of guttural growling noise while attempting to struggle and soon resigned himself to spewing obscenities as the unyielding wires of Decim’s puppetry held his limbs firmly in place. 

The moment hung in the air as the girls looked on in mild, awkward surprise, unsure of what to do. 

“Umm…excuse me…”

Ginti stopped cursing at his captor and everyone shifted their eyes toward the entrance to the hallway where the faint call had come from. “Yes, what is it?” Decim asked innocently, as if he did not have a raging co-worker dangling from the ceiling in front of his face.

Chiyuki stood in the entrance to the hallway looking on uncertainly, yet not altogether shocked at the sight before her. “I don’t know if this is a good time but regardless…you have guests.”

She stepped aside and beckoned toward the two figures standing in the shadows behind her, smiling and inviting them to step forward into the room. As they emerged, the arbiters took in the sight of them. The first was a clean-cut elderly man in a dark tuxedo. His white hair was combed neatly back and his mustache trimmed. He wore thin-framed rectangular spectacles and a kind albeit confused expression on his aged face as he looked curiously around the room and then toward the second guest on his left. 

The room was filled with a strange, quiet aura as the second man walked forward. He couldn’t have been more unlike his refined partner. He was much younger and wore a simple, oversized white shirt with baggy, washed jeans and, oddly, no shoes. He walked with his hands in his pockets, slouching like a moody teenager and taking awkward but calm, shuffling steps. But it was the face that struck the arbiters. He had a wild head of jet-black hair that framed his unsettlingly wide, dark eyes, eyes that looked as though they were constantly staring, observing, and never truly shut. It was impossible to read that face. It simply existed, calmly taking in the surroundings and analyzing them behind those abyss-like eyes. Perhaps what shocked the arbiters most about the man’s strange appearance was that they had seen that face before – in their own.

Decim turned toward the guests. He raised a hand and the strings holding Ginti back retracted. “Welcome to Quindecim. My name is Decim and I will be your bartender.” He bowed politely as he always did. Ginti sat back down on a bar stool, more interested in the situation than pummeling his rival.  
The strange young man cocked his head to one side, considering Decim. After a pause, he gave a small enigmatic smile and replied.

“Pleasure to meet you. My name is L. Are you going to tell me how I got here?”


	2. Exposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfunctions and explanations set the scene.
> 
> Thanks for the lovely feedback from Chapter 1!

“My name is L. Are you going to tell me how I got here?”

Ginti snorted. “Kinda weird, this one,” he muttered, amused.

“I am very sorry. I cannot answer that,” Decim said to L, delivering his usual cryptic answers to guests of the bar. “I must ask you, do either of you remember anything from just before you got here?”

The old man spoke first. “I don’t believe I do. I have no recollection of how I got to this…Quindecim. My name is Watari,” he added.

“Nor do I,” L answered, never taking his eyes off Decim. “Judging by your tone and leading questions, it isn’t too hard to conclude that you’re pulling the strings here…literally and metaphorically.” He smiled his odd little smile and turned his head ever so slightly toward Ginti, who bared his teeth. He continued. “So I’ll assume you’ve done something with our memories and our inability to access them is part of your agenda…the seventeen hypothetical explanations I’ve come up with so far for what’s going on here since I was sitting in that elevator all involve you already knowing who I am…so I suppose I should ask…what do you want from us?”

There was a brief pause. “Thank you for answering,” said Decim, “I will explain your situation momentarily as I do not blame you for being curious.” He was choosing his words carefully and deliberately, hoping to buy a little time. If Decim were the type to show more emotion, there would have been sweat on his brow. The exchange was going mostly according to the usual plan but “mostly” wasn’t good enough. Something was wrong. Decim shifted his gaze hopefully toward Quin, who met his stare with a panicked look. She shook her head and motioned for him to continue with his usual pitch.

“Now then, please pay attention,” Decim addressed the guests again. “First, I cannot tell you where Quindecim is located. Please do not bother to ask. Second…” he continued the same speech he delivered to all guests, albeit somewhat more slowly so as to give Quin some time to figure things out.

The girls were whispering furiously to each other as all of this was going on. “Decim didn’t see them coming, what happened to their memories? Where was the upload?” Nona hissed.

Chiyuki nodded. “I didn’t receive anything either, and I should be linked to Quindecim’s guests as well. Is the information bureau having technical issues or something?”

“It must be the bureau,” Nona said flatly. “There’s no such thing as a human without memories. More importantly, how is Decim supposed to judge them without that information? Did you see that look he just gave you? He’s thinking the same thing.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Quin was in distress. She squinted hard at the ground, trying to think of what could have gone wrong with the system. The information bureau never missed anyone. Thousands of deaths a day and every single one channeled to arbiters through the bureau. It was a perfect machine with perfectly obedient cogs. All the data was there, constantly flowing in and being organized, waiting for a bureau officer but…

She froze. She closed her normal eye and used her left hand to manipulate a few controls on her mechanical eye patch, holding her right hand up to the others, indicating for them to wait. After a few moments…

“IDIOT!”

Quin slapped her own forehead hard and grunted, suddenly jumping off the bar stool.

“What? What is it?” Nona asked, both alarmed and impatient. She jumped up too and grabbed Quin’s wrist before the latter could slap herself again.

Quin looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “I have to go back up there right now. My station is supposed to be inactive right now but it isn’t and they’re going to be wiped from the queue for good if I don’t go now.” She whipped around and sprinted off toward the elevator hallway, calling urgently for Clavis.

“That scatterbrained dolt,” said Nona, closing her eyes.

“What is she talking about?” asked Chiyuki who was eager to learn as always.

Nona opened her eyes slowly and considered her. She always tolerated Chiyuki, maybe even had a mild fondness for her, but it was another reminder of how human the dark-haired girl was. To the arbiters, Chiyuki always had so much expression, so much raw, readable emotion, and so many questions. It was hard to remember that compared to other humans, Chiyuki was calm and mature when she seemed like such a child to these bringers of judgment day. She led Chiyuki over to the side of the room, out of earshot from anyone.

“Let’s see,” Nona began to answer. “The information bureau works like a giant computer. Each person’s memories are copied from their souls at the time of death and saved as a sort of packaged object in our system. Those objects are organized and allocated to the arbiters in bars like this by people like Quin - officials in the bureau. Each official only has a certain amount of space for memories at a time so they have to manage the memories efficiently, otherwise the older memories will just get deleted from the system in the interest of saving space. Basically,” she sighed. “Quin messed something up so she was actually supposed to be doing her job this whole time.”

Chiyuki nodded, showing her understanding. “So then those two…”

“Haven’t had their memories uploaded and we might not even be able to get them,” finished Nona.

Meanwhile, Decim had just finished his spiel about not being able to leave the bar until after a game, and was in the middle of parting the back wall which hid his morgue-like mannequin collection – his most efficient means of persuasion. L watched carefully but didn’t react with any kind of visible fear. His mouth opened a little with the faintest, strangest hint of a smile. “Ah,” he said softly.

Watari was exhibiting a very mild version of the sort of wariness and surprise that most guests did. His face quickly slid through the tiniest hints of shock, confusion, skepticism, and then uncertainty. Yet he did not seem overtly alarmed and maintained a rather steely stance that looked all the more respectable with his age. It was clear that he was a man used to being in high-pressure situations. Not all of those long years had been kind to him. He looked at L again. It was an expression of complete trust, some mix between a soldier looking at his commanding officer, a patient looking at his doctor, and a parent looking at his son.

“Please play with your lives on the line,” Decim finished. The big red button rose up ominously from the bar. It twinkled in the light bouncing off the chandelier as though it were inviting the guests to press it.

The pair of guests stewed in the dramatic silence that often followed these words from Decim. L spoke. “I take it you will give us some time? Otherwise you wouldn’t wait for us to press that or you’d be doing it yourself.”

Decim nodded. “It is fitting to do so.”

“Thank you,” L replied amicably. He sounded as though Decim had just handed him a receipt in a store rather than a deadly ultimatum. Beckoning to Watari with one hand, he sidled over to the lush sofa on the other side of the room and sat down on it, hunched over, knees to chest, bare toes wiggling. Watari sat next to him and smoothed out part of his suit before addressing his friend.

“So…what shall we do? These people and this place…or should I even bother asking?” he chuckled.

L looked up at the ceiling with his big gaping eyes, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he drew his knees in even closer.

“The fact that they have no intention of explaining what they want from us tells us they aren’t any kind of organization like the mafia, so this isn’t about greed. They don’t have the qualities or behavior of serial killers, so I don’t think this is for sport either. Given the tampering with our memories, various versions of those scenarios occurred to me but things don’t quite line up. I thought perhaps they were linked to cases I've solved in the past - revenge for a guilty loved one? They're really quite fascinating. The way they look and act...A pretty grim bunch but…those corpses weren’t real, they were just mannequins. I’m sure you saw that early on, you know what corpses look like well enough. No it seems…this game that we play is something they need. I don’t believe they have evil intentions but I do believe them when they say that we don’t have a choice, wouldn’t you agree, Watari?”

Watari nodded. “There don’t seem to be any exits other than the elevators that we took to get here, and they are automatic or manned by the man with the green hair. Clavis, they were calling him. Call it an old man’s intuition but I think they might be more of a handful than they appear.”

“I would never question your intuition, Watari,” L said honestly, still looking at the ceiling. “Indeed, there is something almost otherworldly about them. That man, Decim…his face never changes, he is very difficult to read…but the feeling one gets from him…not unkind but it’s rather what I imagine it would be like coming face to face with legendary ghosts and warlocks and Shinigami…”

 _Shinigami_ …

L blinked. A creeping chill washed over him as he said that last word. Shinigami. Japanese legends of death gods. Why did he say that word? Hardly a piece of vocabulary in his active working memory. He blinked again and turned his head to face Watari.

“We have to play their game, whatever that might turn out to be. If they had the means to affect our memories and put us in a place like this, they have the means to overpower us. It might be possible to gain a better understanding of the situation if we go along with it but his instruction about playing with our lives on the line…given what we know I can only assume a high probability – almost 100%   - that we will be playing against each other. Possibly for our lives. Are you prepared for that, Watari?”

Watari smiled. “I am prepared to play whatever this game might be. But if you are asking me to forfeit my duty to protect you, I am afraid I cannot promise that indefinitely.”

“I really don’t know what these people have in store for us. It could be anything. You must be on your own guard.”

“I will judge that. The great L has trusted me to be his partner all these years and I will not let him down now. What worries me more than those people is that you haven’t decided on likely explanations and outcomes yet. Surely you must have some idea that might help us to act accordingly?”

L traced his mouth with his finger absently while looking at Watari. He sat thinking hard and moved to stare instead at the jellyfish in the nearby tank while Watari waited patiently. Eventually, it seemed he decided this wasn’t an argument he would win and followed Watari’s change of topic. “One. Just one idea. For now, anyway. It’s quite ridiculous. Less than a three percent chance…but of course, ‘when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ Until then, I’ll keep the thought to myself. Unless that troubles you?”

Watari made a small bow from his sitting position. “Not at all. You have my complete confidence.”

“Then I suppose we ought to get down to business, old friend.”

They stood. As the pair faced the arbiters and Chiyuki, Quin’s nervous voice rang out through the room, slightly mechanical as if through a speaker.

“They’re gone. I managed to sort out most of the others but the ones you need now, Decim – they’re gone,” she said breathlessly, panting. Clearly, she had been running pell-mell around the building trying to rectify her mistake. “They’ll come to those two on their own but you won’t get them. I’m sorry, Decim. Really, I am. I can’t do anything about it and now I’ve got to work overtime…but anyway just – just do your best, Decim.” A decisive _click_ told them Quin had signed off.

Everyone looked at Decim, except for the two guests. It seemed that they were unable to hear Quin’s message. _Smart of her,_ thought Nona.

“We agree to play your game,” announced L in a loud, clear voice. He and Watari began to walk steadily toward the bar where Decim and his decisive button were waiting.

Chiyuki’s eyes widened. “If Decim doesn’t have their memories, he’ll have to judge just based off what he sees. The way they are now and what they do when they start to remember. But he can’t manipulate them based on the lives they lived!” She was smiling, her face beginning to shine with a smidgen of hope. “Finally, an honest evaluation.”

Nona smirked. Chiyuki the child. It was so typical of her. She didn’t understand the arbiters’ ancient ways. She wouldn’t be able to follow their rules if she tried. But still…there was something compelling about Chiyuki’s ideas. With nothing to be done about the situation at this point, it would at least be interesting to see how this all turned out.

Ginti, now standing next to Nona, suddenly began to snicker and burst out laughing.

“What is it, you big oaf?” she asked suspiciously, raising one thin eyebrow.

Ginti’s devious smile made him look like a savage, grinning red wolf. “That filthy hypocrite, criticizing me for not valuing these humans’ so-called ‘fulfilled lives’ not half an hour ago,” he sneered. “Looks like he can’t live up to his own ideals now. Even worse than how he feels about what I do. Good thing my bar is offline, I wouldn’t wanna miss this. It really is my lucky day.” He settled into a stance of the utmost smugness as he watched the room.

The guests had reached the bar.

“Thank you for understanding. Please press the button and the selector will choose your designated game for this evening.” Decim bowed again.

L gave Watari one last look and raised his hand to shoulder-height. The old man put his hand on top of L’s. The rough, crinkled fingers met the smooth, pale ones and they reached for the button together. It sank and clicked a loud and crisp click. The tiles behind Decim began to light up and shift as he stepped aside so as not to block the view.

L muttered under his breath.

“Let’s play.”


	3. Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is on and L is feeling reminiscent whether he wants to or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with this one! Lots of things going on this summer but I hope you enjoy!

The chimes and tones of the roulette behind the bar seemed eerily cheerful for the present situation. An ornate crest was emblazoned across the nine squares, like a finished jigsaw puzzle. _A bit gaudy,_ thought L. With the bright neon lights and almost comedic sounds as each tile lit up in turn, the machine seemed as though it would have been truly at home in a casino. _Well,_ _we_ are _here to gamble – with our lives, apparently._   L chuckled silently at his own joke.

It was bizarre. No, that wasn’t the right word. Otherworldly, perhaps. Bizarre things didn’t have to be logical, one could simply accept the little oddities of life and move on to solve the mystery. This bar, in another context, could have been perfectly ordinary. The décor, the quiet atmosphere, the drinks lined up on shelves, luxurious seats under a glistening glass chandelier – all of it could have been found in any city with a nightlife. There was a foreign force at work here that was even stranger than the modified memories or the request to play a game. Was that force found in these people with blank faces that years of micro-expression reading could not translate for L? Or was it in the odd way that he immediately found these strangers respectable and almost endearing?

The roulette began to slow down, the high-pitched tones sounding farther and farther apart. L watched carefully. He could tell that Watari was apprehensive even if it were not obvious. Finally, the roulette came to a stop with a triumphant fanfare and the tile in the bottom-left corner flipped over by itself to reveal neon lilac letters etched into a shade of deep violet:

CHESS

L blinked. Of course, he knew that even his deductive skills couldn’t be one hundred percent accurate all the time, but given the circumstances, he’d been expecting something a little more dramatic. The word “game” could have meant anything, after all. It was hard to imagine what these bar keepers could get out of watching two other people play a game like chess, which was by no means a spectator sport to the untrained eye. Had the other options been this tame? A round of Go Fish, perhaps? Hide and seek?

The man named Decim cleared his throat. “You will be playing each other in a game of chess. Please follow me this way.” He stepped around the bar and led them over to a round, shiny black table with two sturdy but comfortable-looking black armchairs facing each other across the table. Upon closer inspection, they saw that a chessboard grid complete with letter and number coordinates was already inscribed on the table’s surface in a milky white color. It seemed to glow in the incandescent light bouncing softly off the black glass. L watched, fascinated, as two small pools of the white ink-like substance began to bleed out of the tabletop itself, on each end of the board. The substance twisted and curled into elegant, calligraphic letters and set, hardening with a sheen on the table. The left side spelled the initials Q.W. and the right side, L.L.

L looked at Watari, who had a hand slightly raised in surprise, brow furrowed. The self-writing ink was interesting enough but those initials were even more startling. Their most guarded secrets, spelled out to them almost mockingly, by complete strangers and their magic games.

“Please take your seats. They have been marked for you.” Decim politely pulled out the chair for Watari. “Quillsh Wammy,” he said, gently pushing the chair back in after Watari had sat down. “And L Lawliet.” His cold blue eyes with strange pupils shifted to land on L, who had already hunched into his usual crouched sitting position on the armchair.

L stared right back with an unwavering stare, gnawing lightly on his thumb absently. His eyes followed Decim as the latter stepped back about ten paces to where the black-haired woman in the cropped top and dark skirt was standing. A slight tugging at the corners of her mouth told L she was trying unsuccessfully not to smile. It didn’t seem to be a malevolent smile at all, though. She seemed both happy and nervous. _And so do I._   Well, he couldn’t help it. The glamour and mystery of it all was honestly so alluring. It gave him that funny tingling in the back of his head. It was interesting. Even as a detective, he only took up cases that he found interesting…

There was a long pause as both players took in the situation.

“Well, old friend…” L said softly, smiling at Watari. “I believe you move first.”

Watari nodded. After surveying his white marble army for a few moments, he chose the pawn above his right-hand knight and moved it forward one space. “Just like old times,” he chuckled.

“Yes…” L did a quick check in his mind. The memories from what should have been the past several hours were still inaccessible, but he could remember his childhood just fine. Rainy days spent indoors with Watari and a chess set used to be pretty regular, back before all the interesting cases came along and tickled the part of L that was always meant to be a detective.

He reached forward and picked up a black pawn with two fingers and dangled it in front of his face. Also marble. Good quality, expensive, classy. A little decorative carving around the base. He moved it forward two spaces.

Watari moved another pawn.

L advanced a knight.

The jazzy piano tune started up again, echoing gently around the tall room. As the notes lifted and floated lightly through the air, L felt himself unwind slowly but surely as the turns went on. The music was only punctuated with the soft thuds as he and Watari set chess piece after chess piece down each turn. Despite the whispers of common sense telling him to be on his guard, it was becoming increasingly hard to resist the lull of the ambience. He breathed deeply as he watched Watari move a bishop diagonally five paces. Possibly a trick, but was there a fragrance in the air? It was faint and unassuming, but pleasant and soothing, like a drop of honey in the atmosphere. Interestingly enough, these distractions only seemed to affect his mood – they didn’t hinder his ability to concentrate on the game at hand in the slightest. Evidently, the same went for his opponent. Aged though his old mentor was, L could see that Watari’s intelligence and understanding of strategy had not disappeared. The brains of an inventor and the wits of a spy did not wane so easily. No battles had taken place yet on the board as each of them was eyeing up the other side, organizing his own troops wisely turn by turn before striking. That was how Watari had taught L to play. L lingered on the queen-side rook for a moment, remembering the first time he had played with Watari, relaxed and happy, like a child as the light haze and music washed over him…

_A child with unruly black hair was crouched on the floor in the far corner behind the desk. He was facing the wall, away from the other children in the orphanage who were all playing games, laughing and calling to each other. To passerby, it would have seemed as though he were in a time-out for bad behavior. In reality, he was drawing tally marks in the dust at his feet and thinking deeply._

_A middle-aged man with soft blue eyes approached him from behind. The child did not turn around. “Evelyn has been standing over there for about fifteen minutes, now.” He spoke just loudly enough for his words to reach Watari, who turned his head slightly and saw a young girl with brown hair set in pigtails wearing a blue frock and a frustrated look on her face. She was staring at the back of L’s head, “About every 48 seconds, she takes a bit of a step forward and then goes back. I’ve been keeping track of the rate of her movements over time. It started as closer to every 24 seconds. I could build a rough predictive model with this and –“_

_At the sudden touch of Watari’s hand on his shoulder, the boy stopped talking and looked up. Chuckling, Watari bent down and whispered, “She wants to play with you, L.”_

_“Play?” L repeated thoughtfully. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evelyn turn on her heel with a huff and stalk off toward a group of children playing with figurines. “I don’t like the games they play. They’re boring to me. Danny isn’t really slaying a dragon. He’s just saying he’s got a magic shield that works against fire.”_

_“There’s nothing wrong with bringing a little imagination to things. You find sometimes that it is the missing ingredient, the key that solves the mystery. In any case, L, I brought you a game today that I thought you might enjoy – something more suited to your interests.” Watari straightened up and drew a small box with black and white squares all over it from the inside of his coat. “It unfolds, the pieces are inside,” he said as he handed it to L._

_L turned the box over and over carefully, examining it. “What is it?”_

_“I will teach you how to play. It’s a game of strategy and logic, two things that I think you especially find most stimulating.”_

_They assembled the little wooden chess set on a table and sat across from each other, Watari relaxed and little L with his feet dangling in the air as he perched on the chair. As Watari explained more and more about each piece’s strengths and weaknesses, he shifted back to his crouching position, all the better to remember information with._

_“You could become one of the greatest chess players in the world, with your brain,” Watari said, smiling. “A child prodigy.”_

_L didn’t respond right away. As he considered the set of pieces before him on the board, his face, less than ten years old, fostered the expression of a much older man. “It looks like a battle. A war.”_

_“Very good, L. In essence, that is exactly what chess is. A strategic war that ends when you’ve captured the enemy’s leader or when you’ve outwitted the entire army.”_

_“Is war all strategy and logic, too?”_

_Watari considered the scrawny little boy before him and wondered, not for the first time, how one so small could be so strangely interested in the darker themes of life. He thought for some time before answering. “Sometimes. But sometimes even in war you need imagination. You need to think outside the box. You see, there are times when even the best of soldiers and politicians are faced with threats they never would have imagined in their wildest dreams. There are times when you must simply trust your instincts and believe in a different way of thinking so that you can be prepared for anything.”_

_L was holding his black king piece up to eye level with two fingers, staring intently at it while Watari spoke._

_“…prepared for anything.”_

_The little boy’s straight face curved into a smile. “I think I like war.”_  
  


L shook his head slightly, snapping himself back to the present. The memory felt so vivid even though he hadn’t thought of it for years. As he came out of his daze, he realized that he still had his fingers on the queen-side rook. Strangely, it felt as though he’d been reminiscing for hours, but Watari did not seem concerned. If anything, the old inventor seemed to be mildly lost in thought as well. He cleared his throat a little. “I’ll be taking the first spoils of battle, then,” he said lightly. He moved his rook forward to where Watari’s pawn sat waiting and switched the two pieces with a smooth movement of his dexterous fingers.

As he slid his rook into place on the square, Watari suddenly twitched. L froze and stared, still holding the fallen white pawn in his hand over the board. “What is it?”

Watari blinked a few times, surprised and confused. “I’m fine. A little shot of pain hit me right here,” he gestured at his collarbone. “A little spasm but it only lasted a moment…” Both pairs of suspicious eyes fell on the black rook standing where the pawn had been.

L studied Decim and the woman out of the corner of his eye briefly. “Let’s continue.”

Straightening his tie, Watari complied and reached for a bishop. He lifted it from the board and hesitated, watching L carefully. The look in his protégé’s eyes told him to proceed. He drifted the piece diagonally across the board until it met a black knight, and switched the pieces.

A sharp pang surged through L’s stomach like a streamlined bullet. He gasped and grabbed his side, breathing heavily. The pain was intense and focused. Even though it faded after mere seconds, the suddenness of the sting was shocking, a sucker punch. At the same time, a blur of thoughts sped through L’s mind like a bullet train out of the darkness, too quick to catch and leaving only wisps behind. He clasped the other hand to his head.

_Apples, a train, blonde hair, a rush of faces…_

_A notebook…_

Watari was standing up, leaning forward, alert. “What’s happening?”

“It…I think…” L panted slightly as he tried to collect himself again. “…I think we need to keep playing.”

“I see. Is…that our only option?”

L motioned for Watari to sit back down and rearranged himself into a comfortable thinking position. “I would say so. It seems that these pieces are linked to our bodies, or at the very least our minds’ perception of pain. It could be an illusion.” He touched his stomach gingerly where the pain had been. “Not that that’s altogether reassuring. But moving forward might be the key to sorting out our current situation. Possibly our memories. This game is trying to tell us something…I’ve got a feeling about this.”

Watari absorbed this conclusion for a moment before obligingly taking his seat again. “And you’re sure of that, are you?” he said, still concerned.

L grinned. “No. I’m using my imagination.”


	4. Inquisition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chiyuki and Decim have a little spat just before L gets down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life keeps getting more hectic, thanks for your patience!

Decim looked on stone-faced as his guests felt the first pains. It had only just begun. The man named L had just received his first wave of memories but what those were, this time Decim could not know. It was easy enough to tell where they were in the process – the confusion, the level of hesitation, the frequency of distress – Decim had seen all of these countless times since before he became an arbiter himself, all the way back since he’d been working under Quin. Still, a chill washed over him at the thought of not being able to monitor the recalls. What if he judged incorrectly? What if he was again unable to judge at all? What would he do with these humans then? Slowly, he slid his focus to Chiyuki who was standing beside him, wearing a face that was completely opposite of his in emotion and staring straight ahead at the guests.

“Decim…” she said suddenly, making Decim jump slightly. “I…I know this must be very strange for you, to judge without having access to their memories. I’m curious too, the way they approached the whole situation is fascinating and I wish I knew what was going on in their minds. Even though I’ve seen so many horrible, sad things in your other guests’ memories, for some reason I – I still want to know. Is that twisted? Well, I guess it’s like the way people love to watch horror movies. But at the same time…isn’t it a bit wonderful that we can judge them so objectively without knowing their histories? Everyone deserves a clean slate at some point, why not now, at the end of their lives?” She turned to look at him, violet eyes sparkling and cheeks slightly flushed with both excitement and embarrassment at her little speech.

He held her gaze for a brief moment. “Yes, I believe it will be interesting.” Pathetic, but it was the only response he could come up with. How could he tell Chiyuki that he was worried that Watari and L would share the same fate as her, to become beings caught in limbo because of his failed judgment, fated to linger in this netherworld bar until they disintegrated piece by piece? He stumbled over words in his mind, none escaping his lips. Fortunately for him, Chiyuki had shrugged off his lofty reply, accustomed as she was to his behavior. This gave him time to think until he finally blurted, “What is the point?”

“Eh?” Chiyuki said absently. “What is the point of what?” She was still watching as Watari appeared to be recalling a memory, after L had taken his bishop.

Decim swallowed hard. He was about to enter a discussion against which every ounce of his being protested. Asking questions? Questions were for humans like Chiyuki, arbiters knew what they needed to know and abided by the rules they were given. But the question hung on his tongue like a tantalizing sweet, beckoning for him take the plunge.

“What is the point of them having this clean slate? Why is it so important to you to give these humans a chance without knowing their histories? You call it objective judgment but is not more of a lie to erase what these humans might have done to others?”

Taken aback by his own forwardness, he coughed slightly and tugged at his collar. “Forgive me.” He hadn’t meant to ask so many questions at once but they all seemed to cascade out of a curiosity that he didn’t know he had. He could see why humans said it killed the cat.

Chiyuki was staring at him. “Why are you apol –“ she stopped herself abruptly, knowing the answer. Turning back to the chess table, she started to answer. “Well…I’m not saying I’m absolutely right that this is the way to judge, you know…it’s just that I think people are capable of change.” She pointed at L, who was muttering to himself as he reached for a pawn. “Take him for example. What if he had killed someone before he came here? You might judge him for that. You might put him in an extreme situation that would make him think he needs to kill again. But what if that had been years ago? What if he’d spent the rest of his life in jail tormented and regretting what he’d done? What if he’d been released, and swore to use the rest of his life to do good but never got the chance before he died? What would you say then?”

She waited for Decim to respond but he simply stood in silence, imagining the scenario she had proposed and playing it over, not knowing how to answer.

“Look at him, Decim. He’s young…I’m not saying people don’t need to be punished for their sins, but you don’t know what good he might have done with the rest of his life. I guess…I guess it’s naïve of me but I just like to believe the best in people. No human is perfect…”

“But likewise, one is incapable of knowing what evil he might have done with the rest of his life. The fact is he did not have a clean slate coming into Quindecim. No human does. Having their memories gives arbiters an educated idea of what that person would have been likely to do.”

Chiyuki shook her head vehemently. “But you use them all wrong! If that’s true, then why bother with the game?”

“The game…the game puts them in a scenario they are likely not to have faced in life. An extreme situation to get to the depths of their natures. The gradual memory recall means that we see them begin with a blank slate, as you say, but we observe as their actions change based on what they remember. It gives us a condensed version of what they became given their circumstances in life.”

 “…You and Ginti and Nona and Quin…you all think you’re using what you know about their memories to create a situation that tells you what your guests are _really_ like in their souls, to test them. You think based on their reactions to your game, you can tell who’s a good person and who’s not…but you’re not creating a fair game where they really have a choice, you’re provoking them. You use their memories against them. You give them opportunities to fail. Every human has good and evil inside them, but you lead them to evil, and when they turn to the darkness out of desperation, you blame them! It’s wrong, Decim, it’s wrong!”

There was a sudden, loud scraping noise that made both of them jump.  L shifted his chair and the sound pierced the air again. He scooted again, looking around calmly as though simply trying to find the most comfortable distance from the table. After a few moments, he looked up in mock surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. This chess game is really quite riveting, wouldn’t you agree?” he commented pleasantly as though talking about the weather.  Cocking his head to one side, he put his thumb by his mouth and smiled. “Which one of us would you say is winning?”

“Ah…” Decim scrambled to put his thoughts back in order. Arbiters were supposed to be much more collected than this. He should have known better than to get into a debate with Chiyuki when the rules of arbiters were so absolute…and yet…

“I’d say at this point L is winning.” Chiyuki had already strode over to the table and was bent over it, observing the piles of captured pieces on each side of the board. “That’s just based on the pieces he’s got though,” she continued, smiling kindly at Watari. “I don’t really know much about chess so I can’t say! Maybe you’ve got a trick up your sleeve, right sir?”

Watari chuckled genially. “I appreciate the faith.” Chiyuki squinted pointedly at Decim at these words.

“Why did you ask?” she pointed the question at L.

The wide-eyed young man answered earnestly, “Because I want to know what you think. What do you want? You’re standing there watching us for a reason.”

Chiyuki glanced nervously at her arbiter friend first, but took the initiative to reply. “We just…want to know what you’re thinking too.”

“Fair enough…” L shrugged and settled back down into his chair, reaching for the board again. “…fair enough.”

The ensuing silence was long and remarkably awkward as L and Watari continued to take turns periodically. Chiyuki and Decim stood, embarrassedly pretending to be completely focused on the guests at hand while their minds wandered and pondered.

“You know what I think,” L said in a carrying voice after a while, breaking the silence again. “I think that you two are specifically trying to test what happens when you pit us against each other like some kind of sick social experiment. You look like two scientists watching lab rats. Albeit a couple of pretty polite scientists. Scientists often get themselves confused with God, wouldn’t you agree?”

No answer. L did not seem bothered or surprised, he simply gazed at the pieces on the table while sitting in his strange position, knees drawn up. He continued on, unfazed.

“I don’t think you’re God, no…you’re somewhere a little below that. See, you don’t look omniscient at all right now, in fact you look lost. So I’ll fill you in. So far, I’ve had three flashbacks – one of my childhood, my first confrontation with the despicable mass murderer Kira through a TV screen, and one of me eating cake in a small room with a blonde girl and a brown-haired boy who was handcuffed to me. I do wish I had some cake right now.” He looked sadly down at his stomach before moving on. “I can tell I’m still missing pieces of the puzzle, but I’ll find them at my own pace. You see, I am childish and I hate losing. I hate feeling like…” His gaze fell upon a black pawn and he smiled at it.  “Like a tiny piece in someone else’s game. I’m also a huge hypocrite…I can’t even remember how many people have become my pawns. Yes…I’m a monster. I lie all the time. I define my own brand of justice. I help people if I feel like it. I run away, if I feel like it. And I’m going to play through this game and find out what I want, the way I feel like it.” He grinned at Chiyuki. “And that, is what I think.”

A strange chill of premonition swept through Chiyuki’s mind and her body tensed as she watched L move and reach for his black queen.  It was odd, she couldn’t put her finger on it but something was coming. In her experience watching these games every day as people died, like some kind of morbid intern, she had gained a sense of when things would start to pick up. It was about that time.

The black queen hovered in the air, dangling from L’s thin fingers. He was hesitating, knowing what it would do to his friend. “This is going to be a big one,” he said quietly to Watari.

“Then you had better go ahead and do it or we’ll be stuck here forever. My attention span isn’t what it used to be, you know.”

L bowed his head in apology and with his black queen gently pushed Watari’s white one off the square and slid it into place with a soft, harmless thud. As he picked up the losing piece, he eyed Watari carefully and declared clearly, “Check.”

No sooner had the word evaporated into the air than Watari suddenly shut his eyes and contorted his face into a look of agony. He twitched and gritted his teeth and grunted, as if trying not to cry out, fragile and wrinkled hands gripping the chair. L was doing the same, out of a mixture of concern and determination.

Watari struggled to open one eye and smiled bleakly at L through the pain. “…Here it comes…I bet it’s a good one…” he managed to whisper before shutting both eyes again. His dearest friend and protégé leaned back and watched the old man go slack, panting heavily as the memory washed over all his senses.

He was playing the real game, now.


	5. Recollection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down memory lane...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hardest and last semester is over! Sorry to have been gone for so long.

_“ And what…what would Ukita say if I  quit?”_

_Watari sighed a little, hearing the strain in Aizawa’s voice even through the canned quality of the speakers. He was used to the way L went about things by now but their cases had never been as strange and complicated as this one. And no matter what, the struggle between a soldier’s duty and dignity was a painful one to watch. He looked at the screen showing live feed of L and the task force again, his finger hovering uncertainly over the button that broadcast his own microphone into the room._

_“Damn it!” Aizawa’s clenched fists twitched with his outburst. “This is wrong, why can’t a member of the police investigate Kira…”_

_L’s eyes had widened slightly at Aizawa’s raised voice but he remained otherwise stone-faced, coldly observing._

_Watari closed his eyes. Before his logical side could get the better of him, he had pressed the button and began to speak into the intercom.  “…Ryuuzaki…”_

_“What is it, Watari?”_

_“You made me promise that if anything happens to any of the members of this investigation team, I would support that member and his family with a lifetime benefit, even if they get fired by the police. Why don’t you let Mr. Aizawa know about that?”_

_The old man watched sadly as Aizawa stopped in his tracks on-screen, with Matsuda and Chief Yagami turning suddenly toward L in alarm.  Matsuada, young and naïve as always, was surprised but had an expression on his face that was edging toward happy relief at this news as he took it in. Yagami had a better read of the room. The chief’s eyes shifted uncomfortably toward Aizawa, knowing what was about to happen, just as Watari did._

_L paused for a moment before replying curtly, “Do not mention unnecessary things, Watari.”_

_A shiver went down Watari’s spine at the coldness in his protégé’s voice and actions._

_“Oh…I beg your pardon. I just couldn’t listen and keep myself quiet…”_

_Watari switched off the intercom and sat back as Aizawa rounded on L and an argument ensued. L was a genius, there was no doubt about it. He often knew people better than they knew themselves – on a scientific level.  But to manipulate what few allies they had in this battle against a raging force like Kira…_

_He remained loyally at his post, monitoring all the surveillance and following orders, although what he really wanted to do was look away for even a moment from all of it._

_Some time that night well after Aizawa had stormed out and quit the task force, Watari performed his usual rounds of bringing refreshments to the task force members.  Lately, he had gotten into the habit of giving them teas in the evenings, with different health benefits and calming effects. God knew they needed all the health they could get, and the men were too exhausted to realize it themselves.  And after the display L had put on and the loss of yet another colleague, they were bound to be less than enthusiastic. Ide had been icily polite upon Watari’s delivery, which was only to be expected, close as he was to Aizawa.  Even Mogi and Matsuda had been glum.  Making the final stop, Watari knocked on the door to Chief Yagami’s quarters absently, still thinking about Aizawa’s departure. However, he straightened up and assumed his usual genteel manner when he heard footsteps and the sound of the knob turning from the other side._

_“Ah, Watari, good evening,” Yagami said with his usual kind smile. “You really don’t always have to do this, you know.”  He took the steaming cup and saucer from Watari, who smiled and bowed._

_“Tonight’s brew is chamomile, it’s said to help you get a restful night once you’ve fallen asleep. It’s the least I can do to reward all of you for staying on board with Ryuuzaki’s investigation for so long.”_

_“Yes…all of us…”_

_There was an awkward pause as they both felt the weight of Aizawa’s absence._

_“You know,” sighed Yagami after a while, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s a relief to have Light out of custody and all but cleared of suspicion these days.  But at the same time, I can’t ignore the bit of doubt in the back of my mind every time I see him handcuffed to L – sorry - Ryuuzaki.  Sometimes I wonder what kind of a father I must be to trust a stranger like Ryuuzaki to this point, the point of allowing him to put all these restrictions and accusations on my very own son.  I feel guilty, Watari.  Guilty for perhaps putting my duty above my relationship with Light, which might be permanently stained now even if he really isn’t Kira.”  He looked back up at Watari who was listening intently with an uncertain expression. “But in the end…I suppose that’s a mark of how much we know we need Ryuuzaki.  I don’t always approve of his methods and he can be frustrating but I can tell he’s a good man, and we can’t do without him.  That’s the life of a parent, isn’t it?” he added, his stern mustache twitching slightly._

_Watari blinked, confused for the briefest of moments before the question hit home. “…Yes,” he began to chuckle. “I suppose you are quite right, Mister Yagami. Thank you.” He bowed again and turned on his heel, striding back to the hallway. At the door, he stopped and thought for a moment before turning his kind eyes back to the chief, who was watching him from behind with the tired smile that was all he could muster these days._

_“Mister Yagami,” Watari began.  “Whatever toll this Kira investigation takes on you, Ryuuzaki and I would have you know that you are a great man, a great police chief, and,” he smiled. “A great father.”_

_Soichiro Yagami raised his cup of chamomile and nodded in acknowledgment, his warm smile growing. “And you, my friend.  And you.  We’ll catch Kira soon enough.”_

_The room grew dim and the images seemed to liquefy as Yagami’s words filled the atmosphere.  Watari’s mind floated uncertainly in and out of the memory, as if he were deciding whether or not to open his eyes. Kira…all this talk about Kira…that’s right, Kira the killer.  The one with the supernatural power to kill with a name and face…_

_New images swam in front of his face in the midst of the darkness.  A blonde girl with pigtails whom he now recognized as Misa Amane was interacting with the task force.  The task force that included Light Yagami. The Light Yagami that L relentlessly pursued and despite what the data seemed to imply, L always firmly, stubbornly believed that the true Kira could be no one but Light Yagami.  Light’s face – young, handsome, eyes burning with determination to match L’s – rippled into view, speaking sternly to a giant winged monster with thick lips and gaping eyes.  That’s it….the Shinigami…Rem and Ryuk.  Strange creatures of Japanese myth that turned out to be shockingly real…and in Light’s hand, a black notebook with spiky white lettering._

_A Death Note._

With a ragged gasp, Watari snapped back to the fantastical reality before him.  He breathed heavily as the softly lit room swam back into view, chessboard before him.  L was staring right at him, eyes nearly jumping out of their sockets – but with curiosity rather than fear.  “Watari?” he asked quietly.

Watari shook his old head slightly, pulling himself together. The memory had so suddenly become clear as day, completely immersing his senses.  And yet the current situation in Quindecim slid easily back into place, even the chess strategies he had had in mind before the flashback felt untouched in his mental queue. 

“It’s nearly all in place now, L.”

L swallowed hard but smiled.  “Then make your next move, my friend. I’d like to catch up.”

Watari eyed this young man whom he loved like a son, and treasured the brief moment before he would be burdened again with the Kira case, now that he remembered the pain that came with it.  He moved a piece and settled it a few squares from L’s king. “Checkmate,” he whispered.

_The wind was ruffling L’s perpetually unkempt hair through the open window of the helicopter, attacking his face with the biting cold air but he didn’t notice. He was still filled with adrenaline of the chase.  The police were giving commands through their speakers, the blockade of cars was emitting a frenzy of flashing lights, and for God’s sake there was a real live Shinigami in front of him.  A great big beast with a body like a skeleton crossed with a mummy, and thick lavender hair.  And in his own two hands he held a Death Note.  Pressed between the tips of his fingers was a device that looked so innocent it seemed almost silly to accuse it of being the deadliest murder weapon in history.  He might not have believed it under different circumstances, but Higuchi had no reason to lie at this point.  Glancing to his side, his eyes fell upon Light who was looking relieved and eager.  In a way, sitting beside Light was the most exhilarating part of it – all these years, he’d worked with geniuses like Watari, or talented agents in the FBI, but no one had ever had a brain that worked the same way L’s did.  Light could appreciate the situation before him, from planning each calculated step to execution, to the thrill of having unknown variables thrown into the mix and calling shots on the fly, the intense pleasure of facing a challenge they didn’t completely understand.  To be sure, L still believed Light was Kira. The police and the task force might not have agreed – they might have thought L was just putting his stubbornness and pride first.  After all, he wasn’t a public servant, he had no duty to the people to speak of. But there was something undeniably suspicious about Light that was difficult to convey, and only years of experience with criminals combined with L’s genius intuition could justify his claims.  Even as he relished having someone to share the moment with, he was raising questions and evaluating hypotheses against Light._

_“…Indeed…a reaper…it really exists…” he said wondrously aloud._

_Notebook…at Aoyama...could it be? Notebook, showed each other…Light Yagami and Misa Amane…met at Aoyama…_

_There are more than two notebooks in existence…two…it’s not over yet…_

_Was it truly possible? It was too convenient to be a coincidence, the line about notebooks had been too carefully placed…and yet if it were really this student sitting beside him, what was going on now? What would be the next step in Light’s plan? Would it be wise to continue to give Light access to the investigation, to the notebook for that matter -_

_“Ryuuzaki, is it true?! Let me see that.”_

_Without warning, Light broke through L’s reverie and reached over to pluck the notebook out from under L’s loose grip._

_I’ve got to lock this notebook up so no one else can ever use it…_

_L snapped his head around to stare at Light, hoping to observe his reaction to the notebook._

_“AGHHHHHHH!”_

_The strangled, guttural scream that escaped Light’s throat was so full of pain and terror that L’s heart rate shot up several notches and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.  Something was odd…it was of course startling to see the Shinigami but Light must have been expecting to see it…and Light wasn’t the type to react so forcefully, he would have remained calmer, like L had.  L continued to stare.  Suddenly, he noticed that Light’s eyes were not focusing on the Shinigami, or anything before him. It was as though he were seeing something beyond…_

_“A-are you alright? Though if anyone saw that monster they would be surprised…” L asked, trying to sound reassuring while masking his suspicions._

_Light remained silent, breathing hard while staring down at the notebook in his hands._

_“Th-there’s no way that we can…test it…right Yagami-san?” L said, addressing Chief Soichiro Yagami this time. He couldn’t keep the stutter out of his voice, with so much nervousness and excitement mixed up in his heart at the same time._

_Yagami’s darkened visor blocked his face but L could imagine the affronted expression he was wearing. “Obviously not, Ryuuzaki!”_

_“Then there’s nothing else we can do…for now, all we can do is ask that monster and Higuchi…right?”_

_But if there were two notebooks…we can’t waste any time. Does Light Yagami have the notebook in his hands right now? Then, for the time being, he should have his memories back…_

_However, if he cannot continue holding on to the notebook, then the memories will disappear again so…can he continue to hold onto it?_

_Light shook his head suddenly and L eyed him carefully. “Ryuuzaki, first let’s match the names written here with the names of the victims…” Light’s voice was chipper and calm as usual but his face was turned to the other window._

_L stammered out a slow agreement and watched as Light started to pull up names on his laptop, eyes never leaving Light’s profile. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Light was sitting a little more pointedly with his back to him than was necessary.  But still…Light wouldn’t be stupid enough to try writing in the note with L right next to him like this…_

_Or would he? Was it all part of his plan? All this time being with Light was painful for L – he meant it, when he called him his first friend yet everything Light did always seemed like a front.  Well, obviously, hence the continuing suspicion. But he was always too perfect, too convenient, too much like the starry-eyed protagonist of some dramatic show. And because of the way the world worked, because a feeling didn’t count as evidence, none of this mattered if he couldn’t find legitimate proof to put Light away for good._

_“Ryuuzaki, if we analyze this notebook scientifically, do you think we might find out something about it?”_

_A red flag waved in L’s brain. He must have been trying to throw the investigation off. Light should have been smart enough to see that Shinigami and know –_

_“- that notebook is far beyond science. It’s not like you to say such a thing Light…”_

_Another paralyzing scream cut through the night and both L and Light whipped around to find the source. Higuchi’s neck had jerked so violently that the gag and blindfolds became dislodged and he began to convulse and grunt in agonizing pain.  Eyes unblinking, L saw and understood but could only gape in thoughtful silence. Beside him, Light was exclaiming in surprise but…_

_Light had just been sitting there the whole time…It was impossible for him to have used the notebook…no, not quite. It was impossible for him to have blatantly written Higuchi’s name on the note, the way the other names were placed. But there were other possibilities…it was all too convenient, how could it be that as soon as Light had gotten hold of the notebook, Higuchi suddenly suffered a heart attack? But there was no proof! There was never any proof! Light wouldn’t be fool enough to leave the name in the notebook. This forced, trapped silence was maddening. All L could do was watch as Kira’s plans fell into place. One piece at a time, and with more notebooks out in the world, the case would never fully close like this…_

_He would recall this moment later when…when he…_

_Before he finished the thought, the breeze from the open window seemed to subside and all the sirens and chatter around them died down. Everything became more and more muffled, vision hazier, a growing ache started from the tips of fingers and toes and creeping inward. Paralyzed, he could only blink rapidly as the scene faded away, blacker and blacker by the second. The pain suddenly converged on his chest – on his heart. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but no sound came out, and in the back of his head somewhere a voice told him there was no use. But where was he? What was happening? Where did Higuchi and the others go, why did…_

_L’s eyes snapped open again. This time, the black fog surrounding him parted slightly to show Light’s face, uncomfortably close and staring down at him in alarm. He was yelling something, shaking his head vehemently while never taking his eyes off of L’s.  But L couldn’t hear anything, each blink felt like trying to lift and lower a two-ton weight. Light yelled and yelled…_

_And smiled._

_Time seemed to slow, and L recalled not long ago hearing a crash and a groan, staring desperately at a screen with the W monogram, calling out to his right-hand man, guardian, and dearest friend to no avail…and then confirming the worst, all the data on the computers had been deleted…he hadn’t even had time to mourn, to take in Watari’s death before…_

_Light’s manic smile emanated nothing but a sickening glee. With the last bit of strength he could muster, L formed one final thought._

_So I…wasn’t wrong...but I…_

_Could not do a thing._


	6. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game comes to an end and people are making interesting choices all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thanks so much for reading and being so patient!

  
Now, Ginti had been planning to get very drunk on this day from the start. Originally, it had just been a means of relaxing on his day off, but now it was more of a means to enjoy Decim’s humiliation which was obviously better. After making some snide remarks upon hearing Quin’s explanation of the situation, he had set up shop on the balcony overlooking Decim’s bar. Legs propped up on an extra chair, a few rice balls in a basket, and sake to be downed straight from the bottle. The works. By this time, he was having quite a bit of fun, cheeks tellingly flushed, grinning away like an idiot now that the game was over. Nona was perched on a chair to his right, calm and poised like a dignified cat, though at first she hadn’t been able to help but sneak half-disdainful, half-jealous side glances at her flame-haired companion. Now, however, her sharp lavender eyes were fixed unwaveringly on the scene below. The old man had won, surprisingly, and so brought back their memories…whatever they were. To be completely honest, she wasn’t sure what she would do in Decim’s shoes, much as she liked to pretend she was always in control of things…

Decim was staring so intently at the pair of guests that he didn’t notice the single bead of sweat falling slowly down the curve of his face. Any tiny gesture, even the most quietly muttered word could help him make a decision as the human countenance was so prone to betraying its underlying intention. They were both coming to now, their eyes focusing, groaning, and massaging their temples as they took in what must have been a huge, final burst of memory. This part was almost never easy for guests, save for the rare few who had already made peace with the idea of death. To be thinking of survival, friends, family, and dreams one minute, and getting stabbed into the reality that it was all long since gone – it took real strength of soul to handle that in an instant with the outward, apparent nonchalance of waking up from a long nap.

L ran his long, spindly fingers through his hair with one hand and rested his chin on the other. He gazed at Watari who had straightened up in his chair and was now smiling a weary, bittersweet smile while looking down at the dusty face of his gold wristwatch. The dead detective opened and closed his mouth a few times before choosing his words. “I was right, Watari…about everything, really. As usual. I mean, I was right about this place being some kind of afterlife of course, but more importantly…I was right about Light, and to have almost forgotten that - about the Kira case entirely - I feel as though I’ve become a different man in less than sixty seconds. I have always known myself to be a coward and a false hero to be sure...but who am I with the Kira case and who am I without it…?” He trailed off and sat in deep thought with the most genuine look of confusion he’d allowed on his face in years, given that, well, it no longer mattered what others thought at this point.

As the soft lavender light of Quindecim glittered through the chandelier and cast little spotlights and rainbows across Watari’s form, the old man felt the full weight of his life resting on his consciousness for the first time. Now that he could recall his death, he knew that the only thing running through the forefront of his mind at that very instant had been to protect L. He had lunged for the emergency button that deleted all the data on the computers the moment he felt his insides convulse in pain, using his old soldier instinct to complete the mission no matter what and to put duty before sentiment when possible. Well, his soldier instinct must have indeed gotten old...he hadn't even noticed until now that his watch had stopped, likely since the moment they stumbled into Quindecim. A detail that L had probably noticed from the beginning, in all honesty. Now, in this moment, he had time to contemplate life in death and flash his existence before his eyes on his own terms. There were no magic tricks forcing him to relive jumbled scenes from the past without his permission. He looked at the numbers on the face of his stagnant watch one by one, letting old memories blossom into his head, bracing himself in anticipation of regrets.

And yet, the pain was dulled. Images of grimy, gruesome bodies lying bloody in the street were mixed with the bright-eyed but determined faces of police and FBI heroes. Recollections of peaceful mornings dotted with English dew and children's laughter mingled with the most frustrating dead-ends in research and development. The echoes of guilty pangs from building his army of clever orphan misfits were washed out by all the good they went on to do in the world. Such was life, and my, how time flew.

With a content sigh, Watari looked across the table at his best and most prized invention. “You’re a good man, L. At the end of our days, what more can we ask for? You and I, we were the kind of people who did the best we could with the time we had in the world, despite whatever hurdles and selfishness got in the way at times.”

“At the risk of sounding like a petulant child, I’d wonder if our best was good enough.” L said dryly. “Yours maybe, but...do you understand, Watari? I’ve never pretended to be a ‘good’ person, the way most people have defined it. The public paints me as a hero but I am little more than a gifted sociopath, and probably an egomaniac just wanting to flaunt my own intelligence because the world is too boring otherwise…I told those children at Wammy’s House before and I'll say it again, I am a monster. Psychologists would probably tell me that any good deed I’ve done over the course of my cases has probably only come about as a result of a subconscious need to validate my own existence. But this Kira case...I think I may have really cared, Watari, but I treated the whole thing as a game. And I lost. Pathetically, I might add, very literally at his feet,” he admitted, looking up forlornly at the ceiling. “What manner of godforsaken creature am I supposed to be?”

Watari surveyed L with a sad sort of serenity. He knew there wasn’t any logical thing to say that could neutralize the detective’s prideful self-deprecation. True, L had never been engulfed in self-doubt to this extent, but given the situation, it seemed as good a time as any to come to terms with insecurities.

He stood up and stretched, a cheerful smile on his face as he began striding steadily over to where Decim was standing. L looked up, puzzled, as Chiyuki and the arbiters drew their breath softly. “You can be whatever you like...L, Ryuuzaki, Eraldo, Deneuve. You made a living on the analysis of sound logic, so at least try to draw your conclusions from facts. You are selfish, childish, and arrogant. You distanced yourself from even your closest partners by hiding behind screens and disguises, until the day came when a madman who could stand on equal ground with you threatened your idea of a perfect world. You manipulate, you withhold, you speak bluntly and without regard for the emotions of others unless it benefits your own agenda.” He turned to look back at L with his kind, comforting eyes. “And yet you chose to be a detective, to call yourself justice, and gave your life in defense of the world’s freedom.”

“Now, how can we help you from here?” he inquired pleasantly, turning back to Decim and leaving L slightly stunned in the wake of his words.

With a swift, subtle movement, Chiyuki slid closer to Decim and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I...well...I...Ahem,” Decim cleared his throat, caught off guard despite having mentally rehearsed what he was about to say for the better part of the chess game. For heaven’s sake, he was already nervous about the absolutely absurd proposal he was about to put forth - really, he didn’t know what he was thinking - and then Chiyuki was always so...personal. With a few uncharacteristically awkward movements, he squared his shoulders and looked Watari in the eye. “Normally, it is my job to judge your fate based on your actions in a life-or-death scenario as well as your past memories -”

“Please ignore how pretentious that last sentence sounds,” Chiyuki chimed in under her breath.

“ - but I did not gain access to your memories, nor did I witness any particularly telling behavior from either of you. This is highly unusual. I am most uncomfortable. I must tell you...during this time that I have been watching you two play, observing the way you are, an idea that would normally be inconceivable came to mind. You have no idea how unfathomable it is to people like me. Because of some...recent inspiration...and in light of these circumstances, I feel that...it may not be a terrible thing for me to experiment a little here. And to that end, I would like to suggest a choice, if that would be alright with...you.” Decim’s gaze glided over Watari’s shoulder and met two pools of pitch black tar staring quizzically back at him from under a mane of equally dark hair.

Almost comically, L raised a finger very, very slowly and pointed at himself in a questioning sort of way, cocking his head to one side. “Eh?”

Decim nodded.

An odd feeling was stirring in the back of L’s mind, like little buzzing whispers holding their bated breath in anticipation of something great. Clambering clumsily out of his chair, he slumped over to stand beside Watari, curious expression never wavering. “A proposition at the end of my life, whatever could it be?” he smiled.

“I have more or less explained my occupation to you. I am an arbiter. I evaluate humans at the end of their lives to determine whether they deserve reincarnation or the void. My tools are truth, logic, and objectivity. An arbiter does not allow emotion to get in the way of performing the task at hand, the task being judgement. And it is this job...that I would like to offer to you.”

“Well, shit!” Ginti swore out of surprise, dropping his bottle as he sat up earnestly.

At the same time, Nona looked as though she'd been slapped in the face. What do you think you're playing at, Decim? What kind of bird-brained ideas has that human girl been putting in your head?!

Decim ignored both of them and extended the hand not occupied by Chiyuki’s toward L. “I believe that you may be more of an arbiter than even some of us here already.”

L’s brow furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“Your aura, your analytical skills, your outlook, your behavior...to be exact, everything. Do not take this the wrong way but you seem very different from most humans. You may be perhaps, the ideal combination of arbiter and human that we need in a place like Quindecim and frankly...I like you.” He cleared his throat again uncertainly. “I think we could become good coworkers. ‘Friends’ might be too emotional for an arbiter as such - but we could consider the idea,” he added hastily, catching Chiyuki’s eye.

Still the hand hovered invitingly.

Giving no regard to the awkwardness of the silence, L turned his back on Decim and strode back over to the chess table, clambering into his crouching position on the chair.

“What is he doing?” whispered Chiyuki to Watari behind a raised hand.

“Ah...thinking. Don’t worry,” the old man smiled genially. “It raises his analytical ability by roughly forty percent.”

Back at the table facing away from all the onlookers, L was twiddling his black king piece between two fingers. How tempting...the promise of a new adventure in which to exercise his brain...who knew if he would get that opportunity if he got reincarnated or sent to the void, or which destination Decim’s judgment would send him to? And even if he received reincarnation, what would be the point? He would have to deal with not fitting in with humanity all over again, with the whole mess of discovering himself starting from square one when he already didn’t even know who he was now and didn’t that just sound like so much trouble…

Or was he just afraid?

He placed the black king in front of the white one on the board. During all those years of detective work, he had tried so, so hard and gone so, so far in his quest to at least wield his anomalies for good. It was easy, he supposed, to do the right thing when it was a matter of catching a killer like Beyond Birthday, someone whose sins were one-dimensionally horrifying. In those times, he’d known that he would win but even if he had lost, would it have truly affected him? Terrible for the general public but all it would have taken in the end to stop them was a fired shot. But with Light, potentially even more dangerous than the murderous notebook was the idea of Kira. The very existence of Kira’s followers, the scale of them...the fact that so many people would follow a madman for selfish gain, to give themselves power they ought not have, and to play god, had been terrifying enough to make L care to save the world. The very concept of Kira was free to spread like poison across the world, and he hadn’t even been able to cut off the source in his lifetime. Ideas were immortal but he, as he was just painfully reminded, was not.

With a jolt, he snapped out of his reverie as he felt a hand on his shoulder. “What do you think, Watari?” He tipped the black king over.

“I think that fellow over there was speaking his mind as truthfully as he could. I suggest you do the same.” Watari replied, mustache twitching slightly. “I trust you.”

L sighed. “Look where that’s got you. Alright, I’ve made up my mind but first...Watari I need to thank you. I would have done it earlier but there wasn’t really time for that, back...you know. You know that I’m not...er...the best at emotional speeches, so I’ll keep it brief. I am so sorry that you are here, dead, because of me. You don’t look very troubled by it, in fact you’re handling it better than I am but...it is true that it is my fault. And I owe you so much more than I can put into words, from as long as I can remember. So...thank y- oh for heaven’s sake, Watari...” He rolled his eyes like an embarrassed teenager but couldn’t keep from smiling his queer little smile as the old man pulled him into a tight hug. He patted Watari awkwardly on the head.

Watari pulled back and clapped L on the back. “I ought to thank you too, L. For everything. It’s as good a time as any to remind you that I am proud of you. Remember that, whatever you end up choosing.”

Chuckling, L nodded gratefully. He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked back to the arbiters and Chiyuki with a new confident swagger.

“Have you had enough time to think? Do we have a deal?” Decim asked politely.

L cocked his head to one side and grinned. “Your offer is generous, my friend. However...I’m afraid there is no deal here. You see, I only found a rare few things to fight for from the heart in my lifetime and despite my intelligence, the only thing I’m sure of about myself is that I should never be given the power to play god with human lives. That...it would torture me. Or worse, I would thrive on it. I don’t know if I really lived a good life and I certainly don’t think I ought to be labeled a good person, but I think it’s time for me to make peace with it. I’d like to move on. And I’d like to put in a good word for Watari, here.”

“That’s right, you hear that Decim? No filthy human’s got the right to do what we do. Bad enough you’ve got that woman assisting you but making this freak a full-blown arbiter? Even he knows his place better than you.” Ginti’s growling voice rang through the room. Even drunk, his anger was quite lucid. Nona said nothing. Part of her agreed with Ginti but she was still curious about the scene unfolding below her.  
Chiyuki looked up shyly at Ginti and diverted her eyes quickly, blushing uncomfortably. Decim bit his lip. He knew Ginti was right in a way, that his outburst was by no means uncalled for in a place like this. But offering L this suggestion had felt...good? Strange, but...relieving, in a sense. “Right” was probably the word he was looking for. Chiyuki so often loved using the phrase “the right thing to do.”

“Truthfully, that is a relief to me,” Decim said candidly. “But I thank you for the opportunity to have asked. If you are ready, would the both of you please follow me to the hallway. Clavis will be waiting.”

He bowed. To his surprise, L and Watari did the same. With that, he began to walk out of the room, Chiyuki following close behind but keeping a caring eye on the two guests with a sort of sad smile.

L and Watari exchanged a look, a nod, and a handshake before falling in line behind Chiyuki. The soft jazz from the piano had started up again, a rising, melancholy but cathartic sound wafting through the room as they rounded the corner. Such a simple goodbye, Nona thought as they disappeared out of sight. But with such...mutual understanding. Such peace. Pathetic in an arbiter, but in a human it was...beautiful. The old man would be after me if I said it out loud and this red-haired drunkard would never let me hear the end of it but I can’t deny, it is inspiring.

She stood up, fists clenched. Inhale, exhale. No matter how many deaths she’d seen and facilitated, it always felt like the start of something new.

“What’s with you?” Ginti asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Shut up, pig.” She’d already reached the stairs and placed her hand on the railing. “I’m just going to watch. You can stay here or go back to your bar, whatever you like.” He shrugged and swallowed the last of his liquor as she descended from the balcony and headed toward the hallway.

The elevators were already closed and whirring away by the time she got there. “Quite the interesting day, don’t you think?” she purred, sidling up between Chiyuki and Decim with her arms crossed. “Not one you’ll probably forget, Decim.”

“Are you...angry about what I did?” he questioned with a slight quaver.

Nona looked up above the elevators for a moment. “Hm,” she closed her eyes and smiled. “No, not really. I wouldn’t try it again, but I think you can get away with it this time. Now make me another drink. You owe it to me for not reporting this to the old man.” She turned back toward the bar, beckoning imperiously behind her.

The other two exchanged a glance and Chiyuki giggled, Decim expressing the closest thing to a smile that he could. With Clavis, they trotted after Nona, Chiyuki suddenly remembering Quin and asking earnestly if she would be punished for the mishap, the three of them chattering away happily over the mellowing music. Behind them, the gears of the elevators slowed and came to a smooth stop as they finished their job, the two white masks gleaming and twinkling softly against the dark violet glow so familiarly iconic of Quindecim.

 

* * *

 

A few human years later, the arbiters got together again for a day off, drinking well into the night. Not a lot had changed for them individually except for Decim - though it had been a peaceful goodbye, the eventual passing of Chiyuki had had quite the effect on him. He seemed more than determined to carry on the legacy of what he called her “refreshing opinions and behavior”. And he actually smiled now, God, imagine that.

Early the next morning, already feeling the inevitable hangover, Ginti stumbled back into his bar. He nearly tripped over Memine who was meowing a decibel too loud for his comfort. Probably hungry from not having a proper dinner last night. Muttering crossly, he fumbled for a light switch and rummaged through the cupboards for some food to quiet her.

As he was crouched on the floor searching, his view-screen came to life in the corner of his eye and a visual feed blossomed across the display. Surprise surprise, his next guest was already on the way. Why couldn’t they have pushed off more of these deaths to other arbiters who weren’t hungover? He cursed quietly and straightened up, filling Memine’s bowl while taking a closer look at the screen. What he saw made him hiccup slightly before breaking into a manic grin. Too bad he couldn’t have gotten this one without a pounding headache but, better this situation than none at all. He stroked Memine absently as she began digging into her meal. “Oh ho, this will be fun, Memine. I haven’t forgotten about this brat yet,” he grunted, cracking his knuckles. Tapping the intercom to the bureau, he called “Let me at him, Quin.”

After a few moments of waiting, he heard the elevator doors start to open. He stood there in front of it, polishing a glass with a towel. “Welcome,” he said dangerously. “You’re the first here but there’ll be another person shortly. Now tell me and be quick about it, do you know where you are or remember anything from the last few hours?”

The tall young man in a suit with clean-cut brown hair that fell just above his sharp eyes stepped forward slowly. “No...I don’t think so. Who are you? Do you know where I am? Sorry, I’m a police detective - Light Yagami at your service.”

**END.**


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